Grimm Determination
by Brennon Sithech
Summary: Parts I, II, & III from the Space Wolf fanfiction previously from The Astromonican. Follows the betrayal of the Space Wolf Grimm and his squad and the path of revenge they follow.


**Part I**

Grimm lowered himself to the grave of his fallen battle brother and took the scarred helmet from the bayonet stabbed into the frozen earth. The helmet was battered and broken. A large hole had cracked the casing and blasted a crater the size of a fist in the back of it. Despite the damage the helmet still bore the insignia of the Space Marines, the double headed eagle emblazoned on its forefront. With a sigh he replaced the helmet and stood, his armour creaking from the battle damage it too had received. An almost inaudible prayer to the Emperor passed his blood caked lips and taking his own bayonet from his side, plunged it into the ground next to the nameless grave. The Emperor would look after his kind, a tomb of ice.

A voice sounded from behind Grimm and he turned shaken from his reverie to barks and orders in a snivelling tongue. A man cloaked in black, a wide brimmed cap upon his balding head, a hooked nose completing the hideous visage stalked towards him through the graves of the fallen, shouting at his other comrades who were too, burying and honouring the fallen. The fiend drew a beady eye on Grimm and stalked towards him, his arm outstretched and pointed accusingly.

'You Commander, what is the meaning of this?' The voice was as insidious as the mans appearance, laced with malice and hatred.

Grimm ignored him, looking down upon the man with a mix of disgust and annoyance and moved to stalk past him. Grimm himself was an imposing form, over seven feet tall and cased completely in armour save his head. That too was a dominating vision of power. A thick set jaw rimmed with red spiky hair forming a twin tailed beard on his chin. Atop his skull was another crest of the red mane, tied back in a long and knotted ponytail. His eyes were black, the colour of coals and stared into the hearts of many who stood before him. However, today this cold stare did nothing to dissuade the glowering man who stood before him.

'I asked you a question marine, and you shall answer it on pain of the Emperors wrath'. The dark clad figure snarled at him and pointed to the other battle brothers who were crowded around now, watching their commander addressed in this manner.

Grimm snarled and answered in a bark. 'My men were set upon as we moved through the pass. A band of Orks who have been holed up in the area for the past few weeks ambushed us as we were searching the area. And now…' Grimm said with finality '…we must see to our dead and would kindly ask you to leave'.

The black coated mans face turned into a hideous, scarred sneer at these words.

'Do you know who I am Commander Grimm?'

Grimm shrugged and stared just the same.

'I am the Commissar Helmut Dropwurst, sent here on Imperial orders to over see your ramble of inhuman brethren in an effort to enforce some kind of order upon you.' He stalked forwards seemingly unafraid of the towering giants.

Grimm felt a rage building in his chest, but tried his hardest to quell it. He knew he could crush this man with a wave of his arm but the consequences for Grimm and his men would be dire.

'What would you have us do?' Grimm feigned a mock respect.

The Commissar, sensing victory over the marine stood taller and straighter, and sneered at him wickedly.

'My Lord would have you move south, away from the mountains to cover the retreat of our forces against the Orks'. He could sense he had hit a cord with the Commander as soon as the words had passed his lips.

Grimm forced his face into calmness, avoiding the rage which had already bubbled over in his mind and heart now. He had been intent on hunting the Orks who had ambushed them and slaying their leader, driving the snivelling wretches back to their holes. Now, this upstart of a Commissar was asking him to make a suicidal mission and a rearguard against the entire Ork advance.

'With respect 'sir'' Grimm said, placing a hand on the large chain axe at his side. 'My brothers and I are not under your command. We do not serve your Lord, and we have pressing business with the Ork leader further to the north.'

Helmut's face turned from sneer to sour at the Space Marines words, noticing the hand which was closed around the chain axe. He placed his own hand upon the pistol at his own side and spat on the floor.

'We will see about that' he turned and stalked away into the snow, shouting loud at a group of Imperial troops who were just absent minded drinking from their canteens. They looked as cold and pale as the surroundings.

A lone marine, with black blood of the Ork staining his entire armoured front walked to Grimm as the Commissar retreated in anger. He was helmeted; it locked tight to his breastplate. A slow cloud of steam rose from his mouthpiece.

'Commander, was that such a wise move?' The marine turned and watched Helmut stalking through the snow.

Grimm gripped the chain axe at his side tighter. 'We will see'.

Grimm was stalwart in his determination to defy the upstart Imperial. He had had enough of the endless politics on this snow bound planet. As if the cold weather wasn't enough the Imperial soldiers had been frosty to him and his marines ever since they had made planet fall. Grimm put a heavy hand on the marine who had come to him.

'Do not worry Brother Brusef, the Commissar will blow hot air for a few hours and will think nothing of it. Now we must move to secure the position of these damnable Orks and force them into combat. That Warboss must fall'. Grimm took the bolt pistol from his side and cocked back the action, the time for quarrelling and words was over, now was time to avenge his fallen brothers.

***

An hour later, Grimm and his brothers in arms waiting, crouched at the top of a ridge of sheer ice looking down onto a killing field below. The xenos were milling below. A dozen or so Orks were shoving each other and testing the weapons they had stolen from the fallen marines. It tugged at the honourable heartstrings of every one of the marines there to see the tools of the Emperor being used by such rabble. Grimm motioned with his left hand, a quick short signal to move forwards. To his side a group of camouflaged wolf scouts slipped down the side of the ridge into the deep snow, their bayonets drawn in one hand and bolt pistols in the other. One of the scouts wielded a long rifle, draped in more of the camouflage, only the sighting visible with its dim blinking vid screen. At a whisper through the radio channels the sniper took a bead on the lead Ork's lead, one only a few metres way and let loose a silent shot. It thudded home with deadly efficiency smacking into the Ork's skull and out of the other side in a shower of black blood. The lifeless xenos collapsed in a heap, thankfully the other Ork's had not noticed their fellows demise. The scouts moved forwards more, slipping through the snow drifts, securing the body of the fallen Ork and dragging it into the cover, the boltgun the Ork had been using reclaimed by the sniper.

Grimm moved forwards with the rest of his brothers. Keeping low and drawing their combat weapons. His brothers, Brusef included had shirked their boltguns for chainswords and axes, and Brusef himself wielded a plasma pistol. Ahead, one of the scouts howled a warning. A few feet away the sniper pointed to a pair of the gigantic Ork's lumbering towards the black spot in the snow, suddenly aware that one of their company was missing. Grimm growled and turned to his battle kin.

'This night we will avenge our brothers. We will rid these dark things from the pure Emperors snow and send a message to those who would come again in such fashion.' He steeled his grip on the axe in his hand and snarled with defiance.

The other marines returned his snarl and thanked the Emperor for their salvation and guidance. As one they stood and roared in anger. The scouts ahead rose to their knees and let loose a salvo of bolter fire. The shells impacted in the nearest Ork, huge chunks of flesh blasted from their limbs as he collapsed under the withering hail of bullets. Grimm and his fellow brothers charged forwards, Grimm getting their first. With a wailing scream the chain axe bit into the xenos' neck and split it in two. The giant head lolling to the side, a horrible smile still on the creatures face. He followed it up with a swift kick, sending the body reeling backwards into the drifts of snow. The other Ork's ahead heard the combat and wheeled around. One who had seemingly looted an entire stormbolter from the roof of a Rhino transport lugged it in their direction and fired on the marines. The deep thump of the bolter expelling the rounds echoed off the ridges and they zipped towards the advancing marines. One of Grimm's company was felled by a shot to the chest, the round exploding in a cloud of blood and armour as he sank to his knees, still firing his bolter as his life left the mortal shell. Grimm roared and fired back, the rounds from his pistol hitting the Ork in his shoulder and spinning him round. The Ork howled in pain. Grimm would have much joy in killing the marine killer.

The two sides clashed in a mash of steel and sinew. The Ork's less disciplined rush seemed to overwhelm the marines to begin with. Their large bodies and flailing weapons forcing the marines onto the back foot, sending a pair of the super soldiers to the ground, fighting back with their chainswords desperately. Grimm fired rounds at his approaching enemy, a gigantic Ork who dwarfed even him. His bolter rounds seemed to be doing nothing to slow the xenos' advance, the gouts of blood drooling from the creatures wounds did not trouble the slavering fiend. The axe and the Ork's huge choppa collided with a smash, both opponents forced backwards by the force of the blow. Grimm lunged forwards with his bolt pistol and fired into the Ork's face. The Ork was quick, and batted away the gun arm, the shot firing wide. Grimm, surprised by the Ork's prowess was caught of guard, and didn't see the creature's choppa swinging down in a wide arch. It bit into his shoulder, smashing the shoulder guard to pieces. He felt his flesh sting with the pain of the blow but he gritted his teeth. With a heave he swing upwards into the Ork's stomach with his chainaxe, gutting the gigantic beast in one swipe. He was surprised again that the Ork didn't drop from the blow. Instead his jaw felt the impact of a hamfisted swipe, smashing him backwards, ripped free from the bite of the choppa. Growling, he levelled the bolt pistol and loosed the entire clip into the Ork's chest. It staggered backwards now, its wounds taking their toll now. A flash of red seared his vision for a heartbeat, and as it left Grimm watched the Ork collapse into the snow, a hole burnt through its temple. Grimm turned and looked to where the flash had come from. Brusef stood, his left arm cut off at the elbow, his plasma pistol glowing angrily.

Grimm nodded in thanks and struggled to his feet. With the huge Ork felled the rest of his brothers were finishing off the survivors. The scouts were slitting the necks of those Orks who were wounded, a sense of satisfaction in the act. Only one of their battle brothers had fallen, he still lived but he would not be long for this world. The marine killer had stumbled off into the white. Grimm looked around, the sniper wielding scout had gone as well, he would return with the head of the xenos in redemption for his fallen brother.

Brusef held his arm, it was in tatters. 'Brother Commander, are you wounded?' He dropped his pistol to the icy floor and took of his helmet. Long blond hair flowed out in leather ties, a pointed blond beard on his chin.

Grimm checked his shoulder, it did not seem to be bleeding and he could flex his arm quite fine now. 'I am fine Brother Brusef; you are the one who will require medical attention.'

Brusef pointed to his tattered arm on the floor, still clutching at his chainsword. 'I do not think I will be getting that attached Grimm, a bionic implant maybe the direct root forwards'. He grinned showing blood stained teeth.

Grimm smirked back and clicked his radio on. 'Fleet Commander, we require immediate transport to the frigate'. Nothing came back but static.

Grimm turned and beckoned for one of his battle brothers, a panting scout to come over.

'What is Commander?' the scout said, wiping his bayonet on the dirty furs around his waist and looking at the wound on his commanders shoulder.

'I cannot hail the frigate or the Fleet Commander, is there disturbance in the frequency through this valley?' He looked around, indicating to the high ridges on either side.

'Not that I know of Commander' the scout replied 'As far as I know our scans allowed for radio contact in a large area here.'

Grimm waved him away and looked to the sleet filled sky. Something was not right.

***

In the blackness of space above the planet, the dark Imperial frigate _Imposter _hung in orbit. On the command deck Helmut stood with his arms crossed behind his back. The ships captain was 'disposed' thanks to a rather unfortunate drink he had prepared earlier. Now he had command of the _Imposter._ With a nod Helmut signalled for the rather drawn and scared looking gunner to fire on the planet below.

That would be the last time anyone would cross him.

**Part II**

A ringing seared Grimm's ears as he staggered to his feet. All around him was a mass of confusion. Snow, smoke, bits of body parts fell all around him as he leant on his chain axe for support. He shook his head, trying to force the distortion from his vision and take stock of what had happened. As his vision cleared, he noticed the scene before him and dread, anger, sadness filled his heart. Ahead in the centre of the clear ridge expanse was a giant crater at least ten metres wide. The snow was blackened and melted revealing the bedrock underneath and yet it looked fresh and clean, like a cauterised wound. Around the edge of the crater were the bodies of his brothers. Broken, charred, battered and bloody the surrounding area was coated in a thick crimson carpet which even now was growing larger by the minute. Grimm roared and threw aside his axe, running to the nearest corpse. The scout who had been only a few feet away from him was blown in two. His bottom half was spread in a red ruin around him, his guts exposed to the elements.

A groan sounded nearby. Grimm let the body of the scout down gently from his arms. He was no longer of this world but he still deserved respect. He turned for the source of it and noticed the blond hair of Brusef covered in a mound of snow and loose rock. Grimm took to his side, brushing away the rubble and rolled his battle brother onto his back. Brusef coughed roughly, blood staining his chin and gripped Grimm's armour for support.

'By the Emperor, what in Terra's name did this?' He strained his eyes to look to the side and the crater which still smoked nearby.

Grimm knew full well what it was; he had seen it before on other planets. He had used it himself to purge a warren of mutant scum who were plaguing an Imperial city.

'I can say Brusef with much sincerity that it is not of Ork doing'. He picked his brother from the snow and hoisted him upright with Brusef's good arm around his shoulder.

The reality of what had just happened was now raging through Grimm's mind. As he and Brusef staggered through the scene of ruin, all but them dead a hatred and anger burst into his heart. It had been something to feel anger towards his marines for not attending to some crackpot rearguard; but another thing entirely to blast them from orbit with a Frigate class battleships main gun. His mind swam with questions. Had the Commissar had the permission of the Captain to do this? Had it all been staged as a misunderstanding? Whatever the reasoning Grimm knew the reality and he would not let the Commissar rest easy for the death of his battle brothers.

Brusef pointed with his good arm to a mound of snow and rubble piled towards the centre of the clearing.

'That there, it's a stolen teleport device'. He motioned to the shape of the antenna and the crude Ork implements which had been fashioned to the sides.

'Whether or not it works or not is another matter' Grimm said, his voice laced with hate and malice. 'Whom did the beacon belong too?' He heaved Brusef and himself towards the device and knelt down to inspect it.

The markings were unmistakably Terminator in origin, the insignia of their first strike squad who had perished earlier in the campaign on this planets surface. It amazed Grimm that the Ork had been able to use the device, so protected it was by Imperial pass codes and security measures. Still, at least they had kept it working. He turned to Brusef hopefully.

'Can you make it work?' he said, unsure himself of the technicality of doing so.

'I can' Brusef replied. 'But it will take some time. I will have to change the code which will be received by the ships in orbit. The Ork's have done something to its core and if I send a signal now we are more than likely to be bombarded with more of their fire.' He leant closer and examined the Ork workmanship. 'I think I can do it though, just give me a few minutes'. He began to work on the device when he stopped, hesitating. 'What do you plan to do Commander?'

Grimm's face was set hard with determination. He knew full well that the Commissar had probably severed their radio contact with the Space Wolf vessels above and if he had done that his superiors would probably consider him missing in action as well. They were off the grid now, renegades for all intents and purposes. With Imperial word labelling them as dead it would be hard pressed to push through the political channels quick enough to deal with the Commissar in time. They would have to act now.

'We will board his vessel, find him, and kill him'. Grimm stalked off into the snow to retrieve his chain axe and bolt pistol, swiping up Brusef's plasma pistol as he did so.

***

Aboard the _Imposter_ safely in his quarters Helmut flicked through a giant book positioned on his desk. The writing was not of Terran origin, or any origin that anyone aboard that ship could comprehend. The jagged lines and runic marks dotted a parchment of seemingly well plied leather. It would have turned the stomachs of many to discover that it was truly human skin. He found the page he was looking for and laid the volume flat on the surface. With a flick of his wrist he produced a thin pen from his pocket and traced the line that had taken so much of his attention. As he did so the words glowed with a malevolent crimson sheen and whispers filled the small room of the Commissar. He finished the line and smirked maliciously.

'All will be well soon, all will be well'.

***

An hour or so later Brusef had been able to remove the xenos taint that stained the teleport devices circuits and had put in place an Imperial code, not of space marine origin but Guardsman. He had reckoned it suspicious to have a space marine frequency contact a human frigate and so now, at least until they boarded and started fighting their way to the Commissars position. It had dawned on Brusef too now that they were renegades, and this would probably cost their lives. Grimm had been stalwart in his encouragement however and impressed that the Commissar must be working for some dark end, and that for them to sell their lives in this endeavour would be doing so in the Emperors good will and grace. Brusef did not doubt his Commanders word, and seeing the bodies of his brothers still around him had the same anger burning in his chest.

'It's ready Grimm' Brusef stood and flexed his good arm, taking a chain sword in his grip and a trying the weight of it. He still felt sluggish, the explosion knocking most of the wind from him but he would be battle ready nonetheless.

Grimm checked his own gear. The chainaxe whirred menacingly and his bolt pistol was loaded. Most of the rest of their equipment had been destroyed or made worthless by the snow and the cold.

'Send the beacon now Brother Brusef and be ready'.

The red light on the side console flickered into life and both looked upwards to the now clear blue sky. Their power armour warning lights flickered on suddenly, telling them that a teleport was imminent and to be ready. Brusef looked to Grimm and both nodded. No words needed to be said between the brothers. The ruin that was around them and the anger which coursed in their veins was enough. With a flash of light they were gone.

They blinked back into existence suddenly, appearing in a dark hanger with red lights flashing around them. Steam and heat radiated from their armour as the warp diffused in the tight confines of the teleport bay. It had been fashioned for men, Imperial soldiers and drop troopers, not for the considerable bulk of space marines. The man at the console before them stopped what he was doing and looked up with surprise on his face. Grimm and Brusef stepped down from the uncomfortable teleporter pad and levelled their guns on the Imperial.

'Where is the Commissar?' Grimm said with anger lacing all his actions. 'NOW' he shouted with his booming voice.

The man did not answer, only stared at them vacantly until suddenly he doubled over as if in pain. Grimm turned to Brusef but he shrugged, neither of them had raised a hand to the man. They watched, waiting as the man disappeared behind the console and yells of pain echoed around them. As quickly as he had disappeared the man shot up suddenly, but instead of the scared eyes that had looked on them a moment before, they were filled with darkness, as if whirling with ink. The man launched himself at the pair, latching onto Grimm's power armour with surprising grace and pulled the bayonet from his belt, swinging it down to stab into Grimm's neck. Brusef however was quicker than his frenzied swipes and carved down onto the Imperials head with a flash of his chainsword. The mangled corpse collapsed, the knife clattering away along the ships gridded floor. The two battle brothers shared a common thought once more. For certain something was now amiss.

They shouldered their way through the metal door before them into the larger corridors, able to stand beside each other now. It was oddly quiet, only the gentle hum of the power lines above them making any sound.

'Quiet as the grave Grimm' Brusef said. 'There must be something we did not reckon on here in these walls'. The younger marine revved his chainsword and ground his teeth. 'You were right brother, the Commissar must indeed have a fell hand here'.

They stalked forwards weapons ready down the corridor checking each passageway and door as they did. All were open, showing the signs of habitation and yet no bodies to speak of. One room held the still steaming contents of a canteen, and could only have been a few minutes if that abandoned.

'We must find the bridge' Grimm muttered, walking into the room and calling up the vid screen on one of its more vacant walls.

He scanned the options and found the map, bringing the holographic image into being before them. Clearly labelled and only a few hundred yards down the corridor they recently occupied was the bridge, the large expanse of flickering green not needing any marker of its use.

With a nod they moved on, leaving the room and moving quicker with thudding boots to the door at the end of the passageway. Each of them pressed to the wall on either side and checked their weapons. This would most likely be their last stand and if they were going to go down they would do so honourably and in style. Brusef affixed a krak grenade from his belt to the doors hinges and both turned their backs to the slowly increasing beep. With a loud bang the door was flung from its hinges and in the haze of smoke and twisted metal the two battle brothers launched themselves onto the bridge.

The scene before them was nothing they could have expected. In all his years as a Commander of a unit, let alone his years as a marine he had never witnessed something like this. Before him in the midst of consoles and flashing vid screens were the crew of the ship. All of them bare-chested, covered in scars and cuts some of them still bleeding profusely. They rounded on the two marines, the same inky black eyes staring at the interlopers to their domain. At the head of them all stood a figure cloaked in black. Large tendrils sprouting from ripped leather and a balding head perched between now muscular arms. Helmut laughed a maniac's laugh and pointed to them both.

'WE SHALL SEE!'

As one the horde of changed soldiers echoed his call and leapt towards the battle brothers.

**Part III**

This was a Space Marines element. As the horde charged forwards with a ferocity that would have made even the most battle hardened imperial veteran soil his trousers, the two battle brothers stood unwavering in the face of such adversity. The wailing mass leapt from the consoles and scuttled on all fours towards them, flinging makeshift projectiles at the hulking giants. They did little, bouncing from the power armour harmlessly and as the mutant horde closed Grimm and Brusef unleashed the Emperors Wrath.

A withering hail of bullets from Grimm's bolt pistol tore apart a handful of the fiends, the shots that powerful that they even hit those mutants pressing from behind. Brusef for lack of another fighting arm charged towards the nearest set of mutants his chain sword held high with a roar of vengeance brimming from his lips. He clashed in a messy scene of blood and limbs, sawing this way and that with the dreadful weapon, carving mutant after mutant into bloody chunks. The sea of bodies closed around him as he continued his press those that were climbing the consoles crashing down on his shoulders in an effort to stop his terrible advance. One pulled a rusty knife from its own skin and tried in vain to stick it hilt deep into Brusef's exposed head but shots from Grimm's bolt pistol still rang and took the head from the mutant before it could strike.

With Brusef pushing into the mass, taking the focus of the mutants anger Grimm set his eyes upon the corrupted Commissar who still lorded over the seething horde, laughing like a madman. A pair of mutants bounded towards Grimm taking his concentration for a second. He lifted his bolt pistol to fire but the magazine only responded with a quiet click. Cursing his luck he revved the chain axe in his off hand and flung it hard at the nearest mutant. The giant axe crushed the wretch easily and as its partner lunged for Grimm he grabbed it deftly with his power armoured fist and broke its neck with a blood curdling war cry. Tossing the body aside he ran forwards, retrieving his axe as he went, swinging it this way and that as mutants tried to slow his advance. One caught his leg and threatened to trip him but with a quick stamp of his massive booted legs crushed the things arms into a fleshy pulp. He would only need a few more yards and he would be upon his prey.

Brusef now was deep in the midst of the enemy. Knives, bayonets and even claws were raking at his armour as he span round in a whirlwind of red ruin, carving the mutants into pieces. Bloodlust screamed in his mind and he knew how the Blood Angels felt now. He cleared a space in his enemies long enough to see Grimm racing towards the Commissar, the mutants trying to dog his progress. He wanted to help but knew that to turn the attention now so suddenly could only end in his death. Instead, with blood coursing through his veins he grabbed a mutant by its leg, upended it with a short jerk and plunged his chain sword into its chest, carving it to pieces and throwing it madly into the crowd of enemies, scattering those mutants whose resolve was lacking. His bloodlust was so deep that he did not see the mutant who skulked in the shadows; a grenade gripped in its now bony fingers. The pin clattered to the deck, unheard by all in the maelstrom of combat and as the mutant landed on Brusef's back and shoved the device into a gap in his armour only that single malevolent and once human soul knew what was going to happen next.

The explosion rang around the packed command deck. Mutant body parts were flung into the air, splattering against the walls. More were wounded and crawling way with their limbs maimed and battered. In the smoking centre of the explosion Brusef staggered on the spot. His body had been blasted into a horrible tangled mess. His entire left hand side was ruined and even as he still vainly swung the chain sword at the mutants now flooding back to him it was clear it was over. Grimm turned with rage still brewing in his chest as he watched the sad demise of his battle brother. Mutants swarmed him, stabbing at the now exposed flesh, swarming over him like rats on a bloated corpse. Grimm lamented the death of his battle brother, but he knew he had no time for sentiment. The explosion had been close to the hull of the ship and even now he could hear the creak of metal as pressure threatened to tear the outer skin to pieces. He had one chance now and that was it.

Helmut stared in joy as the second marine exploded in a crescendo of violence. He did not care that the mutant bodies he had harvested had also been damaged in the blast, they could be replaced. The joy however did not stay on his now warped face as he heard the thundering stampede of Commander Grimm storming to his position. He wheeled round just in time to catch the massive chain axe he wielded in his new tendril and absorbed the force of the attack, making the marine stumble forwards. Helmut sensed and advantage and swung one of his muscular arms at the ducking figure, slamming into Grimm's side with a satisfying crack of bones. He followed it with gusto, swinging his other arm round to do the same but connecting with Grimm's exposed head this time.

Grimm's head swam as blood seeped into his vision. The damnable mutant had been faster than he had anticipated and he was paying for his eagerness. The crunching blow to his side had broken ribs and armour and the second to his head had all but broken that side of his face. He fought to keep upright, remembering why he was here and what had too be done. Summoning all his strength he yanked the axe from the tendril grip of the mutant and charged forwards, crashing into the Commissar and sending them both toppling from the command decks top onto the mesh floor below. With a crunch they landed, the weight of Grimm's armour crippling the mutant beneath him, but it wasn't enough. He yelled in pain as the mutants tendrils shot into his chest and back, stabbing through even his thick power armour and puncturing his flesh. Helmut beneath him laughed as blood spewed forth from his mouth, spitting in Grimm's face as he did so.

'You will never escape Commander. You may kill me but you will die too. My mutants will see to you, rip you limb from limb and make you know the essence and pleasure of pain.' Helmut stabbed again harder into the back of Grimm, laughing as he saw the anguish etched on his opponent's features.

Grimm forced back the blood he could feel flooding his lungs and instead grabbed the mutant heretics face with his right hand. The scream and laughs of pain continued as Grimm squeezed hard, crushing Helmut's skull between his power armoured fingers. The tendrils relaxed, the laughter died, and Grimm too relaxed.

Grimm panted and forced himself to his feet, pulling the tendrils from his body and carving the body with a single blow from his chain axe. Above him he could hear the mutants scrabbling to his position below and knew it would only be a matter of time before he would be swarmed as Brusef had. There was only one way out. He reached down to his belt with effort, every movement paining him as the internal bleeding of his organs flooded every other spare space in his chest cavity. He yanked the helmet off the leather strap and forced it onto his head. His vision still swam and as he closed and locked the armoured clasps together he was almost blind. He fumbled for the last grenade to his side and as the crimson haze of his vision cleared depressed the detonator and stuck it fast into the nearest wall. A mutant rounded the consoles but instead of jumping at the marine, stared with its ink black eyes towards the grenade stabbed into the hull. It screeched a warning and tried in vain to push its way back past the flood of mutants behind it, but the press was too much.

Outside the ship the explosion was a noiseless suck. The hull was wretched apart and liquid fire rippled outwards, dissipating as the oxygen was stolen from it. The _Imposter's _alarms flashed and gravity was turned up inside, welding mutants to the floor with a hard and crushing press. Other mutants had not been so lucky, dashed out into darkness of space by the rush of pressure. The form of Grimm floated with them, his power armour blinking green, then orange, and then red as the power armour fought to keep its occupant alive. Oxygen was pumped from the reserve tanks on his back and the blinking red was replaced by a solid orange.

Inside the power armoured helmet Grimm fought with his body to remain conscious. He could feel the fresh air being pumped into his helmet and took deep breaths to help his swimming vision. The rest of his body was wracked with pain and even as the inbuilt life support systems worked on his battered body he knew if he did not received attention now he would be dead. His body turned listlessly in the blackness of space and he stared from the small eyepieces towards the leaning shape of the _Imposter._ It was veering in a low angle now, pointed towards the planet below. He knew it was only a matter of time before the ship dropped too close and would crash through orbit in a ball of fire. A fitting end to the mutant ship he thought.

Grimm closed his eyes, centring his thoughts and relaxing his body, the cool air filling his lungs. This would be day one. As the emergency beacon turned on he knew it would be a long time before anyone found him. But in the Emperors name, he had had his vengeance.


End file.
